


Raging Storm

by Ymas



Category: High Tide (TV)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Childhood Memories, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-01 10:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16762897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ymas/pseuds/Ymas
Summary: A raging storm reveals secrets from the past.Really, just brotherly fluff.





	Raging Storm

**Author's Note:**

> So… uhm… this happened.  
> Apparently, I wrote this 15 years ago (Dafuck? I’m SO ooold…) and forgot all about it for a while.  
> Came across it recently and thought there isn’t enough High Tide fic around by far, so I decided to throw it into the depths of the world wide web.  
> I cleaned it up a bit for language but I have no idea how the plot came about. My mind takes strange and convoluted paths sometimes.  
> Also: I’ve been to San Diego in the meantime and I know now that my geographical layout of the city and description of the weather is inaccurate at best.
> 
> I dated this back, because I didn’t want it to appear at the top of the page and give the impression that it was something new.

**Big shoutout to[ delighted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted), who reminded me that my stuff maybe isn’t all crap, that there are people who love excessive fluff and that it probably won't hurt anyone if I post older stuff. Thank you! :-)**

It wasn’t just one of these rare boring Sunday afternoons. Not just one of the very few days in San Diego that you preferred to spend inside, snuggled up on the sofa with a blanket and a cup of hot cocoa.

It was much more than that. A tropical storm was coming in and it was supposed to be a bad one.

Joey warily watched the wind and rain thundering outside. It was getting dark already. This was one of the worst they’d ever had. Flights had been cancelled, power was out in many places and the tide was high. Mick was actually worried about the water rising over the wall that separated the promenade form the beach, and flooding the shop.

He probably wasn’t even that far off. There was talk about a man having been drowned in his car on the coastal highway in the early morning, of houses flooded and people swept away and of uprooted palm trees that had destroyed homes and injured people. And one person had apparently been electrocuted by a downed power line. Everything was closed down and people were advised to stay inside, if at all possible.

The younger Barrett sighed and turned away from the window. It had started during the night and they had been scooped up inside for more than 24 hours now.

Which was a nightmare for him under the best of circumstances.

Which wasn’t what the circumstances were right now.

It wasn’t just him and Mick locked up in the small apartment over the surf shop. No, Bob-O had to be staying with them. The bulky P.I had turned up to get some intel checked by Mick and Joey long after the warnings had been broadcast and shortly before the storm had broken in earnest. And then, with all the lightning and heavy rain starting up in earnest, had not dared to head back out again.

Mick had generously offered to put a mattress onto the floor in the living room and let him crash there, expecting to be able to send him on his way in the morning.

Well, that had backfired spectacularly.

And while Joey didn’t usually mind Bob-O, even liked to gang up with him and pull pranks on Mick, their nerves by now where worn paper-thin and being forced to spend a day in such close proximity was something else entirely.

Bob-O kept complaining about everything and anything, from the quality of the mattress over the cleanliness (or lack thereof) of their bathroom to the limited entertainment options.

Of course in Bob-O’s house there would have been flatscreen-TV and PlayStations, a Wii and pay-tv-channels, a library with a billiards table and even a pinball machine.

Mick and Joey, being the outdoorsy types, though, had no such things.

It was a couple of surf magazines and a small TV which at the moment mostly only had news about the weather.

And waiting, getting on each other’s nerves.

Joey could even now hear Bob-O whining about the scant food being on offer in the kitchen.

He grinned a little sourly. He and Bob-O had been arguing constantly since the moment they had gotten up. Far too early, too, being kept awake all night by the raging storm and Mick getting up hourly to check on the state of the concrete wall and the water level.

As if there was anything they could do if the wall broke.

Mick usually had himself better under control than Joey, but he, too, was on the very edge of snapping. Joey could hear his tense answers, short and edged.

Bob-O sure could be a pain in the ass, especially when hungry. Which was almost constantly but now there was nothing they could do about that. He wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted. He was the spoiled son of a real estate mogul and as fun as he was to be around in everyday life, he was testing to the extreme if things didn’t go his way.

Joey’s grin grew broader when he heard Mick snap a particularly strained answer.

He admired his older brother for his ability to stay calm in most situations. But whenever Mick lost his nerves it was always funny, especially if he didn’t shout at Joey but at Bob-O or Gordon instead.

The door from the kitchen into the sitting area banged open and Mick stomped in with an unusual amount of noise.

Bob-O was close behind him, muttering about chocolate and the state of their kitchen and the lack of anything useful in their pantry and who didn’t stock for emergencies?

Mick was fuming. Joey could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Explosion was imminent.

Joey chuckled secretly but decided to try and defuse the situation anyway.

As much as he would like to see Mick losing it, they would probably be stuck together for some more time and having Mick explode when there was nowhere to escape to probably wasn’t the best option.

“Bob-O, knock it”, he said, forcedly cheerful, “There’s nothing we can do. _You_ turned up here unannounced so it’s your own fault you’re stuck with us. And believe us, we too could think of better company to keep us entertained.”

Bob-O huffed. “It is clearly recommended to keep a stock of emergency foods. For emergencies like this. This is why they recommend it. You? You don’t even have chocolate.”

“You won’t die, geez”, Mick grinds out from across the room and Joey tries to hurry up with the defusing, making up nonsense on the spot.

“Chocolate’s bad news for you anyway. I read somewhere it’s actually poisonous if you eat too much of it.” He considered for a bit, raking his brain for more weird facts, real or made up. “Oh, and there’s bits of insects in it, too. They can’t clean it all out. You wouldn’t want to eat that anyway. I know I don’t. It’s why we don’t stock it.”

Bob-O gave him a disgusted look. Oh yes, he was in a right mood.

“Oh, really? And how would _you_ know something like that?” he snapped.

Joey took a deep breath to keep his temper in check and shrugged. “Read it somewhere.”

“Oh, really? Didn’t know you could read, what with the lack of books in this place. Oh yeah”, he snapped his fingers, “right. You’re excused. You didn’t go to school.”

This was the fastest way to make either of the Barrett brothers shoot right through the roof and Bob-O knew it.

Joey had left at the age of twelve, because Mick could no longer afford fees, especially for all the extracurricular activities he was just expected to provide for. Unfortunately, Joey had never been ambitious enough to be eligible for stipends. Mick had then tried to home-school his younger brother, which had, surprisingly, kind of worked but had, for both brothers, been a trying and painful experience.

Mick took it even worse than Joey because he always felt he had failed him somehow. It was a very sensitive matter for both brothers.

To bring it up, just for the sake of winding them up, was an extraordinarily low move.

Joey was still trying to find a suitable comeback, but before he got even close, Mick had the big detective grabbed by the collar and shoved into the wall.

“How…” he was seething, his voice almost failing him. “How dare you?? He is at least smarter than you are, you piece of… you have no idea…”

Bob-O squirmed, trying to get away, but Mick had him in a dead grip. “You try saying something like this again”, he hissed through gritted teeth, “and I’m personally going to drown you right out there in this sea. No one will be any the wiser with this weather.”

Joey was startled by the pure menace in his brother’s voice. It had been a low blow over nothing and nerves where all over the place, but even Joey himself didn’t think it justified Mick’s reaction.

Bob-O flailed some more, clearly scared now by the way he was trapped by a furious Mick.

And Mick was probably right with his assessment of Bob-O not being the most clever of people because the best way to get out of Mick’s grip he could apparently come up with, was to drop another bomb.

“What do _you_ care, anyway? He’s not even your real brother!”

The silence descending this sneered revelation was momentarily deafening.

Then, with a loud, sickening thump, Mick’s fist connected with Bob-O’s jaw.

Bob-O, no longer being held up by the collar, went down like a sack of potatoes, howling bloody murder while Mick, swearing a blue streak, hit him once again.

Joey stood motionless, stunned, staring at them.

“What?” he managed at long last, but was completely ignored in the commotion.

Again, louder: “What??!?”

Mick let off Bob-O and slowly straightened. “Joey…”

“Don’t ‘Joey’ me. What’s that bullshit? It is bullshit. I mean how could… why would he…”

The implications of that single sentence, of Mick not denying it, slowly sinking in, Joey was pleading now. “Mick? Why did he…”

Mick would sort it out. Mick hadn’t lied to him all his life.

A passing acquaintance like Bob-O couldn’t know more about his own life than he did himself. Mick would clear this up.

Mick would hug him, tell him that it was alright, explain where Bob-O had gotten this ludicrous idea from and everything would be back to normal.

Only Mick didn’t.

Joey felt his heart skip a beat, then plummet all the way right down to his toes.

But that was impossible. They didn’t look alike, Mick and him, sure…but they were family…weren’t they? They were brothers. They were Barretts.

But if, _if_ , Bob-O was telling the truth, if Mick didn’t contradict him, then that could only mean they weren’t… not really….

Mick reached out for his shoulder, but Joey jerked away. Everything was in a haze, his heart hammering, blood rushing in his ears. He needed… air. Yes. That was it. Air.

He turned and ran. Down the stairs, through the shop and out of the front door. bells jingling in his wake.

The strong wind almost knocked the door off its hinges and made him stumble sideways into the beach wall, water sloshing over it and onto the deserted boardwalk, but he managed to stay on his feet and ran on.

He heard Mick shout after him, but he didn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop for anything.

\-------- 

Joey didn’t know for how long he had been running. He could hardly see for the dark clouds, the rain beating down and the wind stinging in his eyes even though the sky came ablaze with lightning in frighteningly frequent bursts.

He couldn’t quite tell if the thundering in his ears was from the waves, the storm or his own emotions.

Debris on the ground finally made him trip and the next thing he knew, he was lying flat on his back, trying to heave some air into his lungs together with the water pouring onto him.

When it no longer felt as if he would pass out at any second, he slowly sat up and looked back. He’d run along the sea until the boardwalk and the broad beach had given way to a narrow road running up to rough cliffs.

Joey only now realized that he was freezing.

Stupid, stupid idea to leave without a coat but it fit well with the general perception of him. Not the brightest Barrett, after all.

If he even was a Barrett.

It all might come down to that.

The reason why Mick was so much cleverer than he was, why everyone regarded him as cute but a bit naïve and then turned to Mick for any serious advice.

Probably not a Barrett after all.

Joey hit the rocky ground with his fist. The wind was howling, bending the palm trees over almost horizontally, leaves, paper and sometimes even bigger, more solid objects hurtling through the air. Thunder and lightning came in dangerously close, loud succession. Joey knew he shouldn’t be here. It wasn’t often that they got pacific storms like that, but if they did, they were vicious. And this was the worst he had yet experienced.

“Damn it!” he swore while fighting to get up despite the strong wind trying to immediately knock him over again. It all seemed much harder now, without the adrenaline keeping him going.

What should he do now?

Back to the surf shop was out of the question. His only close friend, Ray, had recently moved to Phoenix. He didn’t actually socialize with his surf buddies outside of meeting on the beach for a couple of beers and catching some waves.

They wouldn’t know what to do with him in this state.

Joey smiled bitterly. Yes, it was only him and Mick.

It had always been him and Mick. Whenever he’d felt insecure, whenever he’d needed an answer, he’d always turned to Mick. Even in his more turbulent teen years, when Mick had felt like he’d lost control over him, Joey had always looked up to him, subtly waiting for guidance or reassurance and getting it, even if Mick himself probably wasn’t even conscious of the fact.

And now? All that lost forever? Mick apparently having lied to him all these years rocked the boat. It went against everything Joey had ever believed in. If he’d lied about this, them being brothers, the biggest constant in Joey’s life, then what else wasn’t true?

Furiously, Joey kicked at a rock and stomped towards the cliff face. He could just as well prove to everyone how stupid he was. Everyone must have been laughing about him and saying it behind his back all the time. Haha, look at little Joey Barrett, doesn’t even realize he’s not a Barrett when it’s so obvious to everyone else.

Damn. Joey remembered there were big slabs of rock nearer to the drops, maybe he could find some shelter there to calm down and try to do some thinking.

After stumbling along for quite some time, getting dangerously close to the precipice more than once, he finally reached a crack between two rocks which, while not being much help against the rain, at least kept him out of the wind a bit. By now he didn’t know if moisture on his face was caused by the rain, the wind stinging in his eyes or rather by his fury and hurt.

He squeezed in between the two rocks, scooting back towards the end of the crack. At least he could see the sea from here, which always had a calming effect on him.

It matched the state of his soul. Dark and wild, raging and in turmoil.

He felt so betrayed. Not Mick’s brother…not even a Barrett…the one thing he’d been proud of, he’d told everyone who would listen…

That’s my brother Mick, he’s a cop.

That’s my brother Mick, he’s the best surfer on the coast.

That’s my brother Mick, he’s awesome with a guitar.

(That’s a picture of my mom. wasn’t she beautiful? That’s my dad, he was the best dad ever, and that was his car, if he were still alive we would be rich!).

If even Bob-O knew, everyone must know. The pieces no slotted together easily.

Him being the only dark-haired in the family.

People’s sceptical looks when they were introduced as brothers.

And of course Mick had had such a hard time keeping him after their parents’…well, Mick’s parents’, death. No wonder everyone had wanted to stick him into an orphanage.

And back then when Mick had been shot and he’d wanted to donate blood…. The doctor had only given him a funny look and told him he was too young but he’d later found out he wasn’t a match.

Which happened with siblings, of course, but still…. It explained so much.

Joey hugged his knees to his chest, rested his chin on them und started to cry in earnest, as lost and lonely as he’d ever been.

\-----------

Mick was furiously pacing the living room, Bob-O sitting pressed up against the corner of the couch, raking a hand through his hair and apologizing over and over in various sound levels.

Snapping, Mick turned on his heel. “Shut _the fuck UP_!”

Bob-O broke off immediately, hiding his face in his hands.

Mick sighed, turned against the window and rested his forehead against the rattling pane. After a minute, he turned back around with another sigh.

“Man, forget it. It’s my fault. I should have told him long ago. He was bound to find out one day. I should have told him. It’s my own fault.” He shook his head and tried to blink the moisture out of his eyes.

“What I want to know, though… how the hell did _you_ know?”

Bob-O jumped a little at the unexpected direct question.

“Well, I…I’m a P.I. And contrary to the impression I just gave… which was way out of line and you have every right to be angry… well, I’m not exactly stupid.”

Mick nodded and started pacing again. After a few lengths he stopped again in front of the window.

The rain was still beating against it and the wind hadn’t lost any of its force.

With a ground out “Damn it!”, Mick turned abruptly and grabbed his old leather jacket and Joey’s hoodie from the hook, then he hurried into his bedroom and searched the wardrobe for his waterproof sports bag. Having found it, he stuffed Joey’s sweater, another waterproof jacket and his own cardigan into it, added the afghan from his bed for good measure and then, without another word to Bob-O, he left the house.

It was cold outside and he had to fight against the deafening wind. Despite the leather jacket, he was wet to the bones in a matter of seconds.

But he determinedly set his shoulders and turned left up the boardwalk towards the cliff road where he turned right.

He had no idea why he was going this way, he actually hoped Joey was smart enough to keep away from steep drops in this weather, but he had a hunch.

And that was all he had to get on by for now.

\-------------

It took Mick almost half an hour to reach the cliffs.

The wind carried his shouts away long before they could have reached anyone but he methodically started searching the boulders and cracks.

He knew his brother well. Joey liked it up here, liked the view and the roughness of the landscape. It was only logical he would turn this way if the ocean itself was out.

Besides, the mere thought that he might be looking in the wrong place was too disheartening to even consider.

And then, after a seemingly endless, frantic search, he finally came up on a rock and, from that slightly elevated point, he could see Joey down below, between the very boulder he was standing on and the next, cowering shivering and crying in a crack only just wide enough to sit in.

Mick wiped his own tears away and took a deep breath.

He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying but he probably had done so since leaving the shop.

Well then, he’d had his moment of weakness.

Now it was time to be strong and reasonable.

He was the big brother. He would sort it all out. Like always.

After another deep, bracing breath, he climbed down and squeezed into the crack from behind his brother, touching Joey’s shoulder to announce his presence.

Joey jumped violently but recovered quickly, immediately trying to squirm away from the touch. Mick was glad there wasn’t more space, or the kid would have probably leaped up and run again and he was really too old for chasing after him.

He let go of Joey’s shoulder and lowered himself to the soaking wet ground, groaning as he did so.

Not enough room. And definitely too old for this shit.

Not that he would ever admit it.

“Running away doesn’t make it go away”, he said instead, gently. “Especially not in this weather.”

Joey shrugged, giving up on trying to move away and instead buried his face in his arms again.

Mick sighed. “Look, bro, I’ve screwed that one up. Like. Big time. I really did. And there’s nothing, absolutely nothing I can say in my defence. Should’ve told you long ago.”

He ran a hand through his soaked hair, trying to stop the rivulets of water from dripping into his eyes.

“I always wanted to. That much you’ve gotta believe me. But I’ve never had the guts. Always backed out…guess I’m a coward. Yeah. A coward. That’s what I am.”

Joey gave a muffled snort, then started sobbing again, wet, painful gasps wrenched out from deep within.

Mick carefully inched closer, wary of Joey’s reaction. When there was none, he risked resting a hand lightly on his back. Only now did he notice how violently Joey was shivering and it couldn’t all be from the crying.

After a few seconds he let go and wrestled Joey’s hoodie and the coat out of his bag. He put them both over Joey’s shoulders and wrapped himself in his own cardigan. It didn’t help much, to be honest, but at least it felt as if he was doing something useful.

Without a word or looking at Mick, Joey put his arms through the sleeves of his sweater and pulled the coat tighter around him. For a few moments they sat in silence and it was almost peaceful.

“It doesn’t really change anything for you, though, does it?” Mick finally ventured hesitantly.

Wrong move.

“Not change anything?” Joey exploded immediately, “What, are you kidding me? How can this not change anything?? It changes everything!”

He twisted around furiously. “Everything that ever mattered to me is gone! Everything, everything’s gonna change. And I don’t have even a family anymore!”

Mick sucked in a breath in a gasp. This one had hurt like a punch to the gut and it was getting harder not to lose his own head. But he couldn’t. He was in the wrong here, not Joey.

“Now you’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” he asked, albeit gently.

Joey turned away from him again.

“Does that damn blood really mean so much to you?”

He inched even closer until he could rest his forehead on Joey’s shoulder, trying for intimacy.

“It certainly doesn’t to me. I’ve known it all along and you’re as much my brother as mom and dad have been my parents. As much as you could ever be. This little difference in the consistence of our blood and that stupid paper lying in dad’s old desk don’t mean anything to me.”

This had Joey turning around again and they looked at each other for a long moment.

“And why didn’t you tell me, then?” he whispered.

Mick shook his head. “If only I knew. Maybe I was afraid of this very reaction…” he sighed and looked Joey straight in the eyes.

“Gee, Joey, you’re my brother. I love you. I always did and I always will. I choose my family with my heart, not through some meaningless paper or the composition of blood. And I don’t know about you, but I just hope that this won’t tear us apart, because…well, because…I don’t know what I would do without you…” the last part was barely audible through the howling wind and Mick’s own chocking emotions.

\---------------

Joey wiped at his tears and thought about what he had just heard.

Mick was right. Did what he knew now change anything about his feelings for his brother? No. Did others need to know? No.

Mick had always presented him to everyone as his kidbrother.

Never had there been any doubt for Mick that Joey was a Barrett. Why now? Nothing had changed for Mick, he had known all along. The only one who could now spoil their relationship was him, Joey, by not accepting the fact and feeling all sorry for himself.

Finally comprehending the implications, Joey felt an overwhelming love for his brother.

Nothing Mick had ever done for him had he been obliged to do. He could have easily left him to the authorities and gone on with his life. But he hadn’t. He had left school, taken on a job and fought for them both.

Which basically said everything Joey needed to know.

Spontaneously, Joey twisted around as well as he could and caught Mick in a bear hug. Mick was somewhat taken aback at the sudden change in his brother’s behaviour but he recovered quickly and gladly returned the hug.

“Damn it, kid, don’t do that. I already thought I might have lost you”, he said, his voice hoarse with emotions and his head resting in Joey’s hair. Joey huddled closer.

Mick chuckled softly in relief and it took Joey some time to realise that his big brother was actually crying. Damn.

For a long while the brothers just sat there, revelling in that special bond they had always shared.

“I’m so sorry”, Mick whispered at long last.

Joey pulled back a little so he could look into his brother’s eyes. “I can’t really say it’s ok you didn’t tell me. But neither can we change that now. So let’s just leave it, ok? But I’d like to know who I am, you know? Everything you know that I don’t.”

Mick nodded and shifted a little so as to sit more comfortably against the rockface.

“Whenever you want. But it’s gonna be a long story”, he warned.

Joey nodded at the stormy weather: “Guess we’ve got time. Nothing else to do.”

Mick chuckled softly. “Now? Don’t you want to go home? Get dry first?”

Joey shook his head. “Bob-O’s there. This is between you and me.”

Mick hesitated, then sighed. “‘Kay. Whatever.”

He shrugged off the wet cardigan, pulled the afghan out of his bag and draped it around his shoulders.

Joey scooted back unprompted to rest against his brother’s chest, took hold of the ends of the blanket and pulled them tightly around himself. Mick wrapped his arms around Joey and so they sat, facing the raging storm.

Even though it was still cold and wet, compared to the outside they were quite comfortable, close together in their confined little space. Especially as the rain had let up somewhat and their little cove actually provided some shelter.

Mick took a deep breath.

“Right. Where do I to start?” he said to himself.

“At the beginning?” Joey suggested dryly.

Mick hugged him closer. “If you don’t stop cracking jokes I’m never gonna get started! ...Where was I?...Oh, yes, where do I begin…” he paused for a little while to concentrate, then in a low, even voice, mouth close to Joey’s ear, he started to tell the story over the roaring of the wind and rain.

“Mom and Dad always wanted two children. They were both only-children and they didn’t want that for their own. After I was born, there should have been a second kid right after, so we wouldn’t be too far apart. But it wasn’t meant to be. Mom had several miscarriages and the doctor strongly discouraged them from keeping on trying. It was medical.

Anyway, it turned out their chances to have another healthy baby were awfully low, so me it was. It wasn’t so bad. It gave me a lot of freedom. But I was also alone a lot.

One day, I was about twelve, they busted a smugglers’ boat coming in from Mexico. Lots of things. Drugs and stuff. And a couple of small children to be sold in the US.”

Joey stiffened at that. “Me…” Mick buried his face in his hair, holding him close and went on in the same quiet tone.

“Yeah, you, among them. You were all taken to a hospital and in no time the children’s parents or relatives were located…well, all but one’s…”

“Mine…”, Joey softly said and by now he was shivering slightly. Mick tightened his hold and continued to speak into his hair.

“Yeah, yours. There was nothing wrong with you, no illnesses whatsoever. Mom and Dad were allowed to take you home until they had found your parents. And I…I kinda fell in love with you at first sight…”

* * *

_It had been a nice sunny day and Mick had spent it surfing with his friends. Now he was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. His parents had been supposed to be home at six, now it was close to half past seven. He wasn’t worried. They were cops and often delayed. He didn’t mind. He was very self-reliant, could easily take care of his own dinner, do his homework and take himself to bed at a (mostly) reasonable time. Sometimes he even enjoyed being on his own, singing loudly along with the Beach Boys while turning pancakes, like he was doing now. He was halfway through an air-guitar solo when he saw his parents’ car pulling up outside. He quickly turned off the hotplates and dashed for the door._

_His father got out of the car and walked around it to open the door for his blonde wife. “Hi Mom, Dad, I’ve just made pancakes! There’s enough for all of us!” Mick jumped excitedly up and down, “You won’t believe it, Billy’s father gave me his old surfboard, it’s great, you’ve got to see it, it’s…” Mick stopped short when he noticed that his mother, who had just emerged from the car, was cradling something in her arms. It looked like…it was a child!_

_“Hi, honey”, Mary walked up to him and gave him a single-armed hug. Mick didn’t take his eyes off the dark-haired little boy in his mother’s arms._

_“What’s that?” he demanded to know. Mary smiled and bent down a little so Mick could take a better look._

_“Our guest for a little while. He’s staying with us until we have found his parents.”_

_Mick looked in awe at the small boy sucking on his thumb. He liked children. Unlike most of his buddies he didn’t mind Billy’s four-year old brother tagging along when they went to the beach or the skateboard park. Judging from his experiences with Billy’s brother, this child couldn’t be more than two or three years old._

_The boy turned his head and big brown eyes met Mick’s. “Oh, he’s cute”, Mick whispered, bringing his hand up and stroking the boy’s hair. The child took his thumb out of his mouth and made a grab for Mick’s._

_“He seems to like you”, Mary said while the boy tried to put Mick’s thumb into his mouth instead of his own._

_Mick laughed. “I like him, too. Maybe we can keep him?”_

_Now it was Mary’s turn to laugh. “I don’t think so, honey! But you may carry him inside, if you want.” Mick grinned. “Guess I’ll have to, he won’t let go of my finger!_

_The next day, Mick had hurried home from school, rushed through his homework, played on the beach with the boy before helping his mother feed him, barely taking the time to eat dinner himself._

_Now, Mick was propped up on his bed, reading a book to the babbling toddler sitting in his lap._

_He had been inseparable from the child all evening. He just wished it was his little brother. He had always wanted to have one. And the connection he’d felt with this boy had been instant._

_Mick turned to the last page of ‘Tsarevich Ivan and the Grey Wolf’ in his old fairy tale collection and closed the book, intoning in a serious voice, drawing out the vowels in a mock-Russian accent: “…and so they lived happily ever after.”_

_The child giggled and Mick hugged him a little. “You don’t understand one word of what I’m saying, do you?” he asked._

_The boy stood and started to jump up and down on the bed. “Hey, stop that”, Mick ordered, “Mom’s not gonna like this. You’re supposed to be asleep when I’ve finished the story.”_

_The boy giggled a little more and babbled something Mick didn’t understand. “Hey, come here now!” Mick extended his arms and the child came willingly._

_“You need a name, you know? I can’t keep calling you ‘hey’._

_”Boueey!” the boy brabbled._

_“Boueey? What kind of name is that?”_

_Mick laughed, but suddenly stopped. “Hey, what about Joey? Would be a nice name, don’t you think? Yeah, I’ll call you Joey. Well, Joey, time to go to sleep!”_

* * *

Mick paused for a while, thinking back to that evening so many years ago.

Joey chuckled and Mick lifted his head a little, so Joey could crane his neck to look at his older brother. “You are the one I get to blame for my name, then? Who’d have thought.”

Mick grinned, equally happy with the statement as with the change of mood. “Joey is a cute name.”

Joey grimaced. “That’s the point, Mick! It’s cute! Cute for a baby kangaroo or a dog, but not for a grown man! I will never get rid of the ‘y’. Even though it just doesn’t fit anymore!”

“Baby kangaroos? Nah, I think it’s a name just perfect for my baby brother. And fitting, too.”

“You think you’d like it if everyone would be calling you Mickey?”

“Mmmh, no, but as a matter of fact, I’m no one’s baby brother.”

“A-ha-ha”, Joey said sardonically, leaning his head back against his brother’s shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile. If he was honest, he didn’t mind Mick calling him ‘Joey’. He always tried to get others to call him ‘Joe’, but Mick was a different story.

“So they never found my parents”, Joey stated quietly after a while, serious again, getting back on topic.

“No, thank God”, Mick’s answer was barely a whisper.

It took him only a moment to realize what had just slipped from his mouth and he froze.

“Fuck, no, I mean…I don’t mean to say…I…I…”

Joey patted Mick’s hand where it had tightened around his chest.

“It’s alright.”

How could he possibly be upset in the face of so much love? He wondered if he, too, was glad or rather sorry about the fact that they hadn’t managed to locate his parents. It was a feeling he’d have to explore at another time.

Mick sighed and continued his story.

“Time went by and they couldn’t find your family. We got rather used to you.” He hesitated, choking a bit on his next words.

“I swear, everybody continued looking for them for a long time, most of all our parents. They wanted to do right by you but… I was just a kid. I know it’s wrong, I knew it even then, but it’s true. I did hope they would never find your real family.”

* * *

_Mick banged the door shut, threw his bag into the corner and shrugged out of his jacket._

_“I’m back!” he shouted. Before he could even get rid of his shoes, a dark-haired little boy came barrelling down the hallway at full-speed. Mick caught him mid-jump and threw him into the air._

_“Mick”, Joey giggled, hugging the older boy’s neck. “Mickmickmickmickmick!”_

_Mick set him back down on the floor, affectionately tousling the dark hair._

_“Hi, bro, had a good day?” the three-year-old flashed him a bright smile, then grabbed his hand and dragged him into the kitchen, where Mary Barrett was already waiting with milk and cookies._

_Little Joey had been with them for almost one year now and practically belonged to the family. The boy still didn’t talk much, but he seemed to feel at ease with his new family and loved playing with his big brother more than anything._

_Mick feared the day of his possible departure, refused to think about it. He couldn’t imagine coming home and not finding Joey waiting for him._

_They had determined the day of Joey’s arrival in their family as his second birthday and he was now quickly approaching his third._

_“Ball?” the little boy asked, having hardly swallowed the last piece of his cookie and already sliding off his chair._

_Mick wasn’t quite done yet, he had been telling his mother about his day at school, but he laughed, impatient to get going himself. “Ok, bro, go get the ball out of the garage. I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve finished here.”_

_With a fond smile, Mick watched the child dashing out of the room. Mary watched the brief interaction. She knew about the special relationship between ‘her’ boys._

_“CPS has agreed to stop the search for his parents”, she said quietly. “The DA is also of the opinion that if we haven’t found them by now, we probably never will.”_

_Mick gaped at her open-mouthed. “Meaning we can keep him?!?”_

_She reached over and brushed a strand of too-long blond hair out of his face._

_“Don’t be too hopeful, honey. They said they will cease the official investigation. But that doesn’t mean we can keep him. We are only his foster-family. Maybe they won’t let us adopt him. There are lots of laws and restrictions factoring in.”_

_Mick was alarmed. “But you want him, too, don’t you? You’ll fight for him?”_

_Mary smiled softly. “Of course we will. To the last.”_

\-------------------

_Three months later and Mick was wearing a suit and a tie, sitting on a wooden bench outside a court room, Joey on one side, a CPS-woman on the other._

_Inside, his parents were being interrogated about the case and their family life._

_He nervously chewed his lower lip._

_In there they were deciding about Joey’s life and he had to wait out here. It was torture._

_Joey looked up at him with big, hazel eyes. “Stay”, he said plaintively._

_As much as they had tried to shield him, he had of course picked up on their tension. Also, Mick and Joey had been inside before, trying to show off their close bond and how well Joey had developed with them, in front of the judge._

_Mick laid a protective arm around the boy’s shoulders and pulled him close._

_“It’s gonna be ok”, he said, as much to reassure himself as the little boy who was hiding his face in Mick’s suit jacket._

_An hour later, Mary and Allen Barrett finally stepped out of the courtroom._

_Mick immediately stood, lifting Joey up with the same motion and gathering him close._

_He had come to a resolution. He wouldn’t give him away. Never. No way. He would fight. He would run away, if necessary. He would…he would… he didn’t have a proper plan yet, but he was ready to run. And he was fast. Even with a three-year-old clinging to him._

_He watched his parents politely shaking hands with the lawyer and readied himself for whatever was to come._

_His father turned and laid a hand on Joey’s head. The boy held fearfully onto Mick. He couldn’t understand what was going on, but he definitely knew this was where his future was decided._

_“Welcome to our family, Joey Barrett”, Allan said warmly, and, laying his other hand on his older son’s back he added: “Let’s go home, boys.”_

_Mick stared at him for a second, not quite daring to believe it was over. But when he finally managed to take in his mother’s tearful, happy smile and his father’s relieved expression, he let out a whoop totally uncalled-for in these serene surroundings and started dancing up and down the corridor with his brother in his arms._

_Their parents watched them fondly and waited patiently until Mick had calmed down enough to allow them to hug both boys._

_Mick was the one carrying Joey out of the court building. The little boy was tired and lay heavily against Mick’s shoulder._

_“Brothers” he whispered to the half-asleep boy, “real brothers. You know what that means, right? I’m gonna watch you grow up and I’m gonna teach you how to ride a bike and surfing and help you with your homework and let you drive my car and…and…everything. We’ll do everything together.”_

_The sheer thought of all the possibilities made him pause._

_“And I’ll always be your big brother. I’ll protect you and I’ll be there for you whenever you need me. We will always be together. I promise.”_

_Gently, he kissed the top of his brother’s dark head._

* * *

Joey had tears in his eyes.

“And you kept it”, he said.

Mick seemed to come back from a place very far away. “What?” he asked, somewhat confused.

“You kept your promise”, Joey repeated, “you’ve always been there for me.”

Mick huffed. “I tried. I never forgot that. But I never thought I would be like this. I never thought our parents wouldn’t be here. I thought it would be easy. You know, them the strict parents and me the fun big brother. I made a lot of mistakes. But I never forgot. And I did my best to keep you, after. Even if I wasn’t always sure if it was the best decision.” He shrugged. “But I made a promise to my little brother then, and I couldn’t break that.”

They sat in silence for a little while.

“I’m sorry”, Joey eventually said. “So, so sorry.” His eyes stung and he felt tears escaping again, this time on Mick’s behalf.

He was the big brother and Joey had never really paused to think about how hard the time after their parents’ death must have been for him.

“I’ve been an asshole. Then and now.” Mick took a breath to interrupt but Joey didn’t let him. “Yes, I was. You were just a kid yourself and you did the best you could. More. So much more. What with the ten years between us, I sometimes forget and that’s inexcusable. It is. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t have asked for a better brother.”

“’S alright”, Mick murmured, burying his face deeper into Joey’s neck.

“And I’ve been stupid. You’re right. Family is nothing about blood. It’s all about the heart. It’s about how you feel. And I know how I feel. I just forgot for a minute, there.”

Mick didn’t answer and Joey gave them both a moment to gather themselves before he went on.

“It’s just strange that I can’t remember”, he mused.

Mick took a shuddering breath and lifted his face a little. It took him two tries to answer. “Co…”, swallow, cough, “Coping mechanism. Some people tend to lock up not-so-great memories in the back of their head until they are forgotten. Plus, you were so small. You were just a baby.“ He nuzzled his face into Joey’s hair and for a moment just breathed.

“Nothing of what happened is your fault. Nor mine, for the most part. Let’s just say it was bad circumstances and forget about it. About what happened today, of course. You don’t have to forget what I’ve told you…hell, I’m talking bullshit.”

“Don’t you always?” Joey teased slightly before growing serious again.

“Listen, I don’t think I can ever say ‘thank you’ for what you’ve done for me. And I can’t undo all the bullshit I gave you. With Ray, and Maddie and all the backtalking and stupid teenage antics. But I can tell you that I am grateful. That you mean the world to me and that… oh, fuck it, bro. I love you. I’m grateful, I am. And I love you.”

He turned around in the confined space and gathered Mick in another long heartfelt embrace. They were both wet and cold and shaken and sore from sitting on the damp ground too long but it was the best thing Joey had done in years and he drew it out as long as he could.

Mick returned the hug with a ferocity that spoke of years of doubt and sorrow and overwhelming love.

They were good.

They were family.


End file.
